


The Count and the Disaster

by medaeus (medivhthecorrupted)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, CountDisaster, Crack Treated Seriously, Doowalker, M/M, Slavery, Time Travel, Torture, Torture as punishment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medivhthecorrupted/pseuds/medaeus
Summary: Anakin Skywalker ended up sixty years in the past and did not expect to fall for the younger version of Count Dooku. Together to the two bring a whole new meaning to the Disaster Lineage.
Relationships: Dooku & Anakin Skywalker, Dooku & Qui-Gon Jinn, Dooku/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 61





	1. There Is No Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crack ship that suddenly turned into a serious ship. Its all [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters) fault. They started it with their [Dating your great-grandmaster and other ill-advised life decisions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953187) story and the Discord Server it spawned from. I will go down with this ship.
> 
> Chapter Summary: One day when Anakin passes on into the Force at the same time he's also born, Dooku finds himself lost without his friend and life-long partner...

He had been away on a small mission to Alderaan when the news reached him of the birth of Shmi Skywalker’s son. He didn’t have the time to send a congratulations or read through the packet more thoroughly, the dispute between House Organa and House Thule had kept him occupied more than he liked. So when he returned to the Temple half expecting to hear his brothers and sisters talking about the newborn, a rarity for Jedi these days, and celebrating the birth in typical Jedi fashion, what he found instead was a solemn atmosphere he recognized as that of the passing of a great Jedi.

It was Qui-Gon who had broken the news to him.

Now he stood vigil, alone, in the Hall of Reflection beside the single casket draped in the colors of the Jedi Order. His countenance was stoic, but anyone who knew him would know he was a turmoil of emotions on the inside. A storm of grief and anger swirled deeply within his chest, raging against his aging heart like a battering ram upon a castle gate. With each beat his organ took, the harder the emotions slammed against his will, determined to break down the infamous Dooku Mask his partner had fondly called it.

He wouldn’t let it though. He was a Jedi and they do not feel.

_“Bantha shit, Jedi feel just like anyone else_ ,” the memory came unbidden, welling up from the dredges of where he shoved everything unpleasant. It wasn’t an unpleasant memory; but as soon as he had learned the terrible news, he had shoved it and everything else relating to it down into that place where it wouldn’t hurt him.

_“But strong emotions can lead Jedi astray_ ,” he had argued. Dooku closed his eyes as the memory of strong arms pinned him to the ground before legs found purchase to free him and send the source of his turmoil tumbling to the sparring mat. Bodies rolled and twisted; arms grappled for purchase until again he was pinned on the floor. A huff of annoyance and a puff of air to push back the lock of dark hair from his face, _“It is why attachments are discouraged, because they can lead to strong emotions.”_

_“They can also give us strength when we need the strength the most,_ ” blue eyes met dark brown challengingly. _“I’m not saying we should bathe ourselves in such emotions on a daily basis. That is the Sith way. What I am saying is that we should acknowledge we have them and accept them when they come. It will be easier to keep them from ruling us.”_

He hadn’t understood back then, too engrained in the way Master Yoda had taught him to understand what his partner had meant. He hadn’t understood for the forty-one years he had known and loved him either. Not until now when the man lay inside a box to be cremated in a few hours.

Dooku rubbed at his tired eyes as the emotions finally warred themselves into exhaustion and all he wanted to do now was find some quiet place to lay down and weep. He reached forward to lay a calloused hand upon the casket cover, feeling inside for the body that had been the living personification of his heart. He could not feel Anakin any more than he could feel the life that had been the wroshyr tree that now made up the casket.

His friend and partner was gone, one with the Force and Dooku wanted nothing more than to join him.

The regal Jedi Master closed his eyes and let his hand fall back to his side, releasing the emotions back into the Force as best as he could. But he still clung to the grief and the last memory he had with him. A night shared together in each other’s arms, enjoying the quiet of the apartment and a cup of tea. He remembered discussing the mission he had been assigned and the quiet solemness in Anakin’s voice as the older man had talked about anything and everything.

“You knew,” he breathed, eyes opening to stare at the casket in a widen gaze. “You knew your time was coming and you said nothing.” Dooku stared, hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His hands clinched at his sides, the only sign he allowed for his temper to show. A few controlled breathes and he let go. It would not do him any good nor bring Anakin back if he gave in to the emotion. It was still there, simmering beneath the cool veneer he wore in its place. He would deal with it later in the sparring rooms like he always did with any strong emotion.

Right now he did not want his last memory of Anakin to be tainted with anger. He understood his reasons for keeping his approaching death a secret, Dooku just wished Anakin had felt he could share it with him rather than spare him the worry. “You always did care too much, desert rat,” he affectionately chastised and gave a heavy, solemn sigh.

“Far too much.”

Dooku slowly sank to his knees and hung his head in silence. Had someone been there to observe him, they would have noticed the soft tremble of his shoulders.


	2. Sins of Another Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dooku and Qui-Gon are curious about Anakin's mechanical arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more to this story but it careens off into Mature content and I will post that separately from this.

Master Anakin Naberrie sans Skywalker sat surrounded by pieces of his arm in the middle of their common room with Qui-Gon Jinn perched on an arm chair to his right, watching in fascination as the older Jedi Knight disassembled, cleaned, tweaked and reassembled the mechanical limb. Across from them was Master Dooku who wore a frown and held a concerning curiosity in his dark gaze.  
  
“If you stare like that any longer, you’re going to set my arm on fire,” Anakin teased the younger master. Dooku cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the sofa, subtle signs of his discomfort at being teased in such a manner.  
  
“Ask.” It was more of a gentle offer of permission rather than the command it sounded. It was Qui-Gon who voiced the first question.  
  
“What happened? How did you lose it? Was it a speeder accident? A pirate?” Anakin couldn’t help but laugh at the flood of questions spilling from the younger man.  
  
“Qui-Gon,” admonished his master. The padawan coughed and gave an apologetic look to the young master. “Forgive my Padawan, Anakin.”  
  
“Nothing to forgive. It’s alright, I’m happy to oblige him.” The older Jedi, Anakin still couldn’t get over the idea that he was older than Dooku even if it was just by a couple years, reached over to pick up a hydrospanner so he could calibrate the pistons. “I lost it in a battle, not a speeder accident. No, it wasn’t pirates.”  
  
“So what happened then? Who took it?” Qui-Gon pressed. Anakin could hear Dooku sigh and he stole a glance at the man before returning to his calibrations.  
  
“A traitor,” he simply answered. He wasn’t going to name the man who now sat before him sixty years younger. Qui-Gon didn’t need to know that his master would become, no, _had_ become a Sith in another timeline. It would shatter his hero worshipping view of Dooku and Anakin didn’t want to influence the man into falling sooner.  
  
He knew Dooku would do anything in his power to prevent that future and that kind of determination and perseverance would drive him to the Darkside. He may have known and hated the villain Dooku had become, but the Jedi he was now was a far cry from the Sith Lord and he had grown fond of him in the few years he has gotten to truly know him.  
  
“To the Republic?” the boy continued, curious to know who it was that could have gotten the better of his second most favorite Jedi.  
  
“Yes. He... started a war and my master and I had cornered him.” Anakin paused in his repairs to reflect on the memory. “I was... younger, foolish and eager to fight. I charged head first and paid the price with my arm. I almost lost my master to him too. If Master Yoda hadnt...”  
  
He fell quiet, wishing to say no more on the matter lest either one figured out who it was that had maimed him. Anakin lifted his gaze to the man whom’s parallel version had taken a part of him that day. Dooku quietly met his gaze and Anakin could see the gears turning in his mind as he thought about what they had been told.  
  
In the years he had known this Dooku, he had learned how to read the man and he could see anger flicker briefly with the subtle narrowing of his eyes, and then concern relaxing his features as brown eyes shift to the disassembled arm and then to the covered stump that was his right limb. He was thinking and Anakin suspected he would like to repay the favor to the unnamed traitor.  
  
Had these questions been asked when he had first come here, he would have spitefully told Dooku. Now, though, he was just tired and wanted to forget the war and the Sith and that terrible day on Geonosis.  
  
“I think Anakin has had enough questions asked of him tonight and you have exams in the morning, Padawan.” Anakin gave Dooku a grateful look as Qui-Gon groaned but obediently stood from his chair. Both men watched as the young Jedi bid his goodnight to them and left them to their own devices.  
  
The rest of the evening was spent in silence between the two but Anakin could tell Dooku had his own questions he wanted to ask but was either too polite to put them forth or unsure how to ask them without being insensitive about it. When he had the arm reassembled and was about to reattach it to his limb, Dooku finally spoke.  
  
His voice was softer than usual and quiet, “Leave it off tonight,” he requested of the slightly older Jedi.  
  
Anakin blinked up at him, “Why?”  
  
Dooku stood and strode over to his friend and sometimes partner. He held out a hand in offer to Anakin and hoisted him to his feet, “Because I asked.” His tone was gentle and Anakin wondered if he figured it out. “Stay and come to bed with me tonight, Anakin.”  
  
A tender squeeze of his hand from Dooku had Anakin nodding in consent. He set his repaired arm on the coffee table before following the man to the bedroom they often shared. “You know, don’t you?”  
  
Dooku briefly vanished into the refresher and was silent while he performed his evening ablutions. Anakin followed after a minute of receiving no answer, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “Well?”  
  
“Well what?” Dooku glances at him through the mirror.  
  
“Who took my arm.”  
  
“Should I know?” It wasn’t a question of whether he should know it but rather if he _should_. Anakin chewed his bottom lip in thought. He knows Dooku would want to know and he knows the knowledge could hurt him in more ways than just his feelings.  
  
“Probably not, but you’ll find a way to get the answer.”  
  
Dooku finished washing and came over to the older Jedi. He tucked Anakin’s clean shaven chin in his fingers and met his gaze, “If you don’t want me to know, I will respect that.”  
  
This is why he loves _this_ Dooku. The man was respectful and caring. He was nothing like the Sith Lord he had known who was cruel and evil, who had taken his arm because he could, who had been willing to dabble in powers no one should know about much less mess with and inadvertently send him into the past of a parallel universe.  
  
This Dooku wanted to genuinely help and protect his friends and found-family. He may still be an arrogant prick at times but Anakin quickly learned it was just a front to hide his insecurities much like his own mask of bravado that had earned him the title of The Hero with No Fear. It sometimes frightened him at how similar they were and the part of him that hated the Sith Lord balked at the idea of having anything in common with him.  
  
But he would remind himself that this Dooku was not that Dooku and it was alright for them to share similar qualities about themselves. It certainly made it easier in understanding the man and it had helped him discover a few things about himself, issues he had allowed to fester and go unresolved for so long. He had been grateful afterward when Dooku called him out on some of those things and helped him through them.  
  
Anakin’s eyes softened at Dooku’s touch and he gave him one of his charming grins, “I would appreciate it.”  
  
“Then it’s settled. Now, go get cleaned up. I’m not kissing you while covered in lubricant.” Anakin huffed a laugh as Dooku swept past him to go prepare for bed. He vanished into the refresher to do as suggested. He could hear the younger master over the running water as the man talked from the bedroom, the subject of Qui-Gon an easy topic to fall back on when he was trying to ease Anakin’s mood into something calmer.  
  
His deep voice was soothing when it wasn’t laced with anger or hatred, a far cry from the voice he had been use to. Anakin also had noticed a while back that the man’s voice wasn’t as deep as he remembered it and wonders if age or something foreign had deepened it further. A part of him looked forward to hearing that deeper voice in a kinder tone.  
  
“Anakin?” Dooku intruded with worry when it became apparent that he wasn’t responding and the water had been running longer than it should have.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Are you alright?” the Jedi Master inquired, eyebrow raised at the Jedi who’s arm was still covered in suds.  
  
Anakin blinked and he could feel the tips of his ears burning as he realized he had been daydreaming about Dooku’s voice, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”  
  
“Don’t think too hard or you’ll exhaust yourself,” he coyly teased and Anakin threw the wash rag in his direction, suds and water flying across the refresher. Dooku deflected it and the cloth splatted against the wall with a wet squelch. The man left Anakin to his ablutions, soft but deep laughter ringing behind him.


	3. The Master's Punishments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an idea that the Mission to Galidraan ended with the Jedi being slaughtered because of Anakin's interference. He and Dooku survive but are sold into slavery by Death Watch. 
> 
> In this, Dooku learns a hard lesson as a freeborn turned slave and Anakin has to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little graphic, so if torture as a punishment isn't something you want to read then I suggest skipping to the paragraph starting "The punishment was brutal." or skip this chapter entirely.

The first time one of them had gotten into trouble with their new masters, it had been Anakin. Dooku was quick to come to his defense despite the older Jedi’s attempt to dissuade him from it. So it was Dooku who had been punished for both of their transgressions and Anakin was forced to watch.

The crack of the electro whip was louder than the muffled cry from Dooku. The chains holding the Jedi Master turned slave, rattled with the force of the blow that had sent the Serennian jerking in pain. He had been stripped of all clothing; the rags the slaves were forced to wear torn to shreds scattered about the open courtyard that was the slave quarter. So even when they were done making an example of him, he would have no dignity left to scurry back to the hovel that was his and Anakin’s home.

Anakin felt the old hatreds from his old life resurfacing with each crack of the whip and Dooku’s pained cries. His helplessness coupled with the guilt that it was his own fault, reopened the old wounds he had thought were healed. Only now when he is witness to his lover’s torment, does he finally realize he had only covered them up instead of letting them heal.

He wants to help Dooku, knows he has the skills to put down these guards and the slavemaster, but restrains himself from doing so. Any action he took would only make things worse for them. They held all the sabaac cards and the remote that would detonate the chips in their necks. They would die before they could so much as choke the life out of any of their oppressors.

 _CRACK_!

Dooku’s pained scream broke through Anakin’s angered and despairing thoughts, and he had to look away from his abused lover. One of the guards overseeing the punishment noticed and poked a little too harshly upon his chin with the blunt end of hiss gaffe staff, forcing Anakin to watch.

He tried not to commit to memory the shredded backside or the rivulets of blood streaming down the Jedi’s legs to the sandy stone beneath him. He tried not to see how Dooku hung limply in the chains, his breathing ragged with each painful breath he took or how he struggled to get his footing underneath him.

The punishment was brutal. More so than necessarily needed. Anakin only had blundered, tripped in his stupor state, and lost the mistress’ meal. Dooku shouldn’t have had to take such punishment for his own clumsiness. Anakin would have been only slapped a few times and told to get another meal.

 _Why did you have to protect me?_ he silently demanded to know. _It wasn’t worth all this and now you risk dying from infection._ Anakin took a shuddering breath, eyes closing briefly as Dooku’s groans died down.

“He’s passed out,” he heard one of the guards say and Anakin was grateful his companion would not suffer any longer. “Should I wake him?”

“No,” the musical voice of their owner replied. Anakin lifted his head just slightly to catch a glimpse of the woman who was responsible for their captivity and enslavement. She was beautiful and alien, a species Anakin couldn’t name or have ever seen before. Humanoid. A rose colored hue to her skin and dark eyes. She wore her wealth in fine silks and expensive jewelry, not a single mark on the smooth skin that her attire allowed to show (which was more than humans would have considered proper). “He has learned his lesson and the pain of healing will teach him further. Release him and let his filthy ilk take him back.”

The guard reached up and unclasped Dooku’s arms. He didn’t bother catching the unconscious slave and so he fell into a heap in a pool of drying and crusting blood. Anakin wanted nothing more than to rush to Dooku’s side but knew he needed to wait until the masters had left.

He caught the gaze of their mistress and Anakin quickly lowered his own.

“You. The one he protected. You knew the rules. Teach this freeborn how to behave or next time I won’t be as lenient.”

“Yes, master,” Anakin bowed and waited until they were all gone before he hurried to Dooku’s side. He carefully rolled the man onto his side and checked his pulse. He felt the thread of life under his chin where his fingers pressed, it thrummed sluggishly, far too slowly for Anakin’s tastes. “Come on, wake up you idiot,” he tried to coax him back to consciousness but either Dooku refuses to or the pain really had knocked him out good.

A shadow fell on them and Anakin recoiled, half expecting a backhanded slap, but it was just another slave. A male Iridonian that was thin and frail with old age and a life too long in slavery. The zabrak said nothing as he took one arm and Anakin threw the other around his own shoulders. Together they carried Dooku’s abused body back to the hut they had claimed for themselves.

Carefully Anakin and the zabrak rested Dooku onto the bed, face down before the Iridonian disappeared into the refresher for water and rags. While they were alone, Anakin reached carefully to push back sweat soaked locks from Dooku’s face, “You are an idiot and if you live through this, I’m gonna let you know how big of an idiot you are. Force, why did you not listen to me?”

“C... Couldn’t let that witch hurt you,” came the hoarse reply and dark eyes met blue sadly. “Would... would do it again.”

The zabrak returned with a bowl of warm water and clean rags. Anakin took them with silent gratitude and gestured for privacy. The alien slave nodded his understanding and left them alone. “No you won’t,” he tells Dooku once they were alone again.

Dooku’s reply was cut off with a pained hiss as Anakin began to clean away the blood and dirt from the lacerations. He can see that his friend’s back was never going to be the same after this. They both were never going to be the same should they ever become free men again.

“I will.”

Anakin sighed. “Then please, choose which moments to defend me from. I can take a beating. I’ve taken them before, you... Dooku, this life will break you.”

The regal Jedi lifted his head a fraction off the rags that served as a pillow. “You... before?” He sounded surprised and it took Anakin a moment to realize he had never told Dooku about his childhood.

He pursed his lips and silently continued to clean his back.

“Ani...” Dooku pressed. “You were a slave before.”

“Once, for nine years,” he confessed reluctantly. “Then a Jedi freed me.” Dooku gasped when the wet cloth contacted a deeper cut. “Sorry.”

“‘s not y’r fa’lt,” his lover slurred just moments before he passed out again. Anakin was grateful he was out again; it would make cleaning him up easier and he would not have to face the guilt that it was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna need some fluff after this one.


	4. Letters Through Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Jedi Padawans secretly exchange letters unknowingly through time while they take a retreat before their knighting and when one of them wants to meet the man he has come to care deeply for, he is given that chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I was thinking maybe a Lake House AU, where Anakin and a newly Knighted Dooku send letters to each other via a space!mailbox that is part of a house used for meditation retreats. Anakin is there as he prepares to be Knighted, himself (lets say Padme and him remained just friends in this universe.) They agree not to share revealing details about the other, but open up enough to fall in love along the way and it maybe ends with Anakin traveling back to meet the man he's fallen in love with

This was not what he had expected upon taking up the offer of the old ghost that seemingly haunted the place for the sake of connecting people through time because it felt like playing matchmaking. He hadn’t realized the letters he was receiving had come from the past and so he had written back, finding the idea of having a long distance friend appealing. It was only in the last letter from the Knight-to-Be that he had learned the truth of when his pen pal was from.

Anakin had wondered where his friend was now and thought to go seek him out that way but the spirit had offered instead to open a way through to the past instead. It would be a one way trip and no turning back once he had gone through. The time he came from would be irrevocably changed by the actions he and the man he had grown deeply fond of. He was reluctant to accept the offer and seek out his friend in the present instead but worried that he might not like what he would discover.

What if he was dead, killed by the war? Anakin knew he would be old by now if the date was any indication to his age. What if he was a Jedi he couldn’t stand to be around? One of the Councilors even? What if he was one of the few Jedi to turn traitor and fall to the Darkside?

 _You will never know unless you take that leap of faith_ , the spirit whispered in his ear and Anakin got the sense that the being really wanted him to take the offer. _And what if he is someone you came to dislike? You know what he is like in the past. You read his words and loved the heart that beat behind them. Will you let your fears of the present deny you the happiness you know you will find with him?_

Anakin couldn’t argue against that. “What about my friends and my master? Will... I see them again.”

 _They will cease to exist_ , the spirit told him. Anakin worried the inside of his cheek as he thought about what he wanted and what he would lose if he followed his heart.

“ _What does your heart tell you_ ,” he heard his mother’s voice whisper to him. The pain and memory of her death was still fresh in his mind and one of the things he had talked to his friend about in the letters. He had been supportive and understanding of the pain of losing the only family he had ever known and had. His friend had spoken of his sister whom he had to cut ties with when the Council found out.

“I will,” he answered his mother and straightened his posture. He may not see his friends as they were currently, but he would see them again someday. Anakin met the ethereal gaze of the spirit and nodded his acceptance of the being’s offer. He had a chance to be happy and with someone he loved.

The spirit gestured to an unlit hallway that Anakin swore had not been there before during his entire stay at the retreat. “What’s down there?” he asked if it.

 _Your future_.

Anakin anxiously took a step forward and he thought about his friend and how the man talked about an initiate he was planning on taking once he returned from the retreat himself. How excited he sounded at being able to finally teach and lead missions of his own and save worlds and stop wars. He thought about their mutual love for lightsaber combat and complaining about what their masters wanted them to learn. How they both found kinship in the fact both their masters insisted on learning Ataru and how it did not fit their tall, gangly frames.

He thought about the man’s love for convors and a need to get into places he shouldn’t, the mistake he made about daring to say the archives were incomplete. He thought of the daring escapades and reckless situations his friend always seemed to find himself in. What Anakin had found was someone after his own heart and he wanted nothing more than to meet him and love him.

Anakin took a deep breath and the final step into the unnaturally dark hallway. For a brief moment, all sound and light were absent and he pressed onward and tries to ignore the disorienting feeling he was getting in traversing what seemed to be a void. And then there was light, a pinprick that steadily grew into a hallway once again.

He walked out of the hall and into the common room of the retreat, unsure of what he would find. What he found waiting for him surprised him more than having his arm lobbed off.

The Jedi Knight had been sitting on the sofa, hunched over scribbling away at what seemed to be another letter to him. Anakin must have made a noise, a gasp of air in reverent awe perhaps, for the knight quickly stood with an unlit lightsaber in hand. He was tall and so young, the dark hair and the beginnings of a beard had thrown him off completely as to who he was, but there was no mistaking the dark eyes.

“You...” he gasped.

 _Remember what I said. He is not whom you knew_. The reminder was the only thing that kept him from drawing his own weapon and attacking the Jedi. He thought it was maybe a cruel joke on the spirit’s part, making them write to each other knowing perfectly well that Anakin hates the man.

“Where did you come from?” the younger version of the Count demanded in that same arrogant and pretentious tone he used on Geonosis.

“The... future?” Anakin supplied, gesturing back at where the hallway had been but when he looked back it wasn’t there anymore. “Um... So uh, we’ve been writing letters back and forth for like the last six months.”

The younger Dooku’s dark eyebrows furrowed forward, “Old K’runos had mentioned something about time when I asked him why the date was off.”

“Old K’runos?” he blinked in confusion.

“The dark spirit that haunts this place to tempt Jedi off their chosen path,” Dooku explained as if he was giving a lecture to an inattentive youngling. “You took his offer...”

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“I... no... yes, erm,” the future Count of Serenno lowered his lightsaber and returned it to the clip on his belt. “You... came because of me?” There was something longing in the Knight’s voice. The same kind of longing Anakin felt when he realized he had fallen for this man.

“Yeah.” Anakin gestured to the letter on the table. “For me?”

Dooku glanced back at it and then quickly grabbed it. He didn’t crumple it out of shame or embarrassment. He simply held on to it before offering it to Anakin to read. “I was replying to your last letter.”

Anakin stepped forward and accepted the half-finished letter. He studied Dooku curiously for a minute before reading the words he had come to be intimately familiar with. The letter spoke of his day at the retreat before going on how much he would like to meet Anakin one day. It started to talk about his feelings for him before it ended in mid-sentence, right when Anakin had interrupted Dooku with his presence.

“What were you going to say?” he asked of the knight and Dooku shifted hesitantly on his feet. There was color in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, embarrassed that he was put on the spot about his feelings. Anakin’s features softened and any ill-will he might have harbored for him faded as it finally clicked in his mind that this man was really not Count Dooku.

He didn’t give the man the chance to reply and quickly crossed the remaining distance between them. Anakin firmly gripped Dooku by the arm and drew them both close enough for him to steal the kiss he had wanted to share with him for some time now. He felt Dooku stiffen at first but soon relaxed as he returned the unexpected affection.

Strong arms wrapped around Anakin then as the two embraced and continued to share a kiss under the bemused and gleeful eye of the spirit that brought them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didnt have the energy to write out the letters, just the meeting. Might do that another time.


End file.
